


whatever a sun will always sing

by dialecstatic



Series: let this whole town hear your knuckles crack [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, and i have so many headcanons and feelings in general for modern!les mis, i just really love musichetta, that i had to do something about it.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:19:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dialecstatic/pseuds/dialecstatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>she’s watching them with eager eyes, these boy-men in all their reckless glory, surrounding their leader like a pack of wolves, friendly ones, that would welcome you with open paws and claw at anyone who’d try to hurt you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	whatever a sun will always sing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beckyinthesky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckyinthesky/gifts).



 

> \-- (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

> and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
> 
> higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

> and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

 

* * *

musichetta is spring.

she’s bright mornings and wild flowers and songs that ring through their ears as night falls. she’s the roses inked on her shoulders and the wind catching in her hair, and the soft sundown light that flows through the windows of the café musain. she’s a tune that they can’t refrain from humming, and a truly fucking amazing one at that.

*

they meet on a summer’s day, paris growing with excitement under the feet of thousands of strangers, when enjolras, taking advantage of that, is rallying a few more people into the café for amnesty international. he’s taking his internship a little too seriously, by the amused looks on his friend’s faces, but the way his face lights up when he goes into one of his blood-boiling speeches is a sight to behold, and that’s probably the reason why the random café-goers are staring at him in awe. musichetta has just started working there for the summer, to pay for next year’s (last year, she always thinks with a grin) university and lodging fees, and also maybe a holiday to whatever part of the world her heart takes her too. she’s watching them with eager eyes, these boy-men in all their reckless glory, surrounding their leader like a pack of wolves, friendly ones, that would welcome you with open paws and claw at anyone who’d try to hurt you.

they stay until well past the café’s closing time, and musichetta, who doesn’t really feel like going home when there is still so much to hear from the pack, and when enjolras is now in frantic conversation with a tall, serious-looking man, whose name she’s caught to be something that ends with “ferre”. she studies them, one by one, this odd combination of wannabe revolutionaries, with names straight out of a nineteen-century novel and dreams that could fill up the whole world.

there’s a “jehan”, a young, thin, almost airy boy, with flowers in his hair and the most... interesting combination of clothes musichetta has ever seen. there are rose prints on his jeans ( _green and blue_ rose prints), and ink on his fingertips, and chetta instantly likes him. next to him is a mass of curly black hair, and under it, a fidgety young man in actual suspenders and an actual bowtie. he’s wildly waving his hands in all directions, and it’s a wonder he hasn’t his anyone in the face yet.

out of the name’s she’s managed to catch, there’s also a bahorel, a tall, bulky guy, who would be really frightening if he didn’t smile so fondly at his overly-excited friends, and a cosette, blonde and angelic, but with that fierce look in her eyes that says, “bite me and i’ll bite you back”.

and of course, there’s enjolras. loud and fearless and vindicative, beautiful and passionate, and maybe a little mad, but that doesn’t matter. musichetta likes mad people, those who are ready to die for what they believe in, those who burn with the same fire that she sees in enjolras’ eyes.

she’s almost certain they’re still going to be there for at least an hour, what with enjolras still being in deep conversation with “ferre”, and bowtie-man now out on the street to hand pamphlets and flyers to the passersby, so she leans over the counter and tries to catch the rest of the names, and a glimpse of what they’re about.

***

the second time they all come in, it’s on a saturday night and chetta is the only one tending the bar, so she gets to learn all the names.

enjolras is the first to walk in, closely followed by bowtie-man (this time clad in a much more casual plaid shirt) whose name she learns to be courfeyrac after he starts flirting with her and “ferre” calls him out. jehan tugs him away from the bar and to the table in the corner, and chetta smiles to herself when she catches a glimpse of bright green trainers, laces replaced by soft pink ribbons. next to sit with their friends are bahorel and cosette, who brings with her a freckled boy by the name of “marius goddamn pontmercy!”, who turns bright red everytime cosette so much as looks at him. a ew minutes later comes in grantaire, whose name she remembers being called at the end of the last meeting, and who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, until he sees enjolras and eagerly goes to sit on courfeyrac’s lap, elicting a grunt from him and a small, sweet laugh from jehan. she starts wondering who’s whose, when éponine, a dark-haired and loud-mouthed girl with spikes on her leather jacket, and who winked at chetta when the group left last time, storms in, leading feuilly, as level-headed as he’d looked the first time, and seeming not at all phased by his friend’s enthusiasm.

last in are, she learns as their friends cat-call them, joly and bossuet. chetta’s gaze lingers on them, on bossuet’s arm around joly’s waist, on joly’s thin frame and the doctor’s blouse that is threatening to fall off his overpacked bag, on his worried look when he notices that cosette is wearing a tank top despite the fact that it’s seven pm in the middle of june, and bossuet’s laugh when he starts babbling about possible illnesses rings through her ears for a moment too long.

she shakes her head, and the sound away, and observes the group for a minute (or two), trying to make sense of them, of what could have possibly brought them together. she’s met student groups before, hanging out because of shared classes and projects, but is pretty sure that this bunch didn’t come together over an assignment.

they’re quiet at first, settling in this little corner of the musain that she highly suspects to be their little corner of the world as well, shuffling around until the right people find each other, and grantaire has settled on the floor in front of jehan and courfeyrac, after the latter unceremoniously pushed him from his lap.

she catches her breath when éponine bounces towards the counter, a huge grin splitting her face in two.

“you’re new here, yeah?” she says, leaning over to almost whisper into chetta’s ear.

“yep. i suspect you aren’t.”

éponine flashes her a toothy smile before turning to look at her friends, whose uncoordinated chatter starts filling the room.

“we come here a lot, to say the least. enjolras found the café two years back when he was organizing his first big protest, and we haven’t found a better place since.”

“he’s your leader?”

“our fearless chief, yes!” there’s a slight tone of mockery in her voice, but it’s so close to fondness that chetta doesn’t pick it up. “he’s very passionate about... all sorts of things. but we love him. and quite frankly, there’s something thrilling about knowing that your best friend won’t hesitate to put your life in danger if it means getting better housing programs for lower class students.”

at that, chetta can’t hold back a laugh, and she looks over at enjolras, who’s going through a mess of papers on the table. he looks stressed out and excited, and the light flickering across his face only adds to the idea that he might actually be mad.

“when are you done with your shift?”

“uh?” chetta looks up at éponine, who’s now staring at her with intent, her mouth slightly open in expectation.

“i said: when are you done with your shift? are you covering the whole night or do you have time to get a drink with us later on?”

“do you always ask complete strangers out or did i do something to fall into your good graces?”

éponine smiles then, and leans even closer. “you didn’t throw us out last time, when your boss certainly would have, and you seem cool. that’s enough reason for me. plus, i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but our little group strongly lacks female presence. we can always use a bit more girl power.”

chetta nods, smile bright and eyes travelling from eponine to the group, and asks for their orders.

***

when chetta turns around after closing the steel curtain, she certainly doesn’t expect to see grantaire, grinning and handing her a beer.

“did you get that from our stock?” she asks, incredulous, both at the smug look on grantaire’s face and at the fact that yes, this beer bottle does come from the café musain’s stock.

“i know this café better than i know my own apartment. and if you knew how my apartment is, you’d understand. anyway. wanna come sit with us?”

chetta is almost expecting him to make a mean girls reference, so she just takes the bottle and cracks it open with her lighter. she looks after grantaire while he goes back to the table, all long limbs and ragged clothes, and while he’s not walking exactly straight, there is still a certain grace to him, almost eerie. when she realizes she’s staring, chetta takes a deep beath and walks over to the excited group.

she easily finds a spot to sit, between courfeyrac and bahorel, and is instantly assailed with questions, comments, and they’re all studying her intently. cosette grins, enjolras sighs, and there’s a finger tracing the roses inked on her shoulders. when she turns to look at the intruder, she’s met with jehan, a fascinated look on his face, hand ghosting over the lines. when she nudges him a bit with her shoulder, he looks up at her and smiles, lighting up the whole room while doing so. there are flowers in his braided hair, just like the first day, and he idly fiddles with them for a second or two before picking one out and gently putting it over chetta’s ear. the gesture is tender, almost familiar, and chetta feels a dozen pair of eyes on her, so she takes a sip of her beer and settles her gaze on enjolras, who is looking at her fondly, a bit like a father watching his youngest child making friends on the playground.

from that moment on, the chatter comes back, increasingly loud, and grantaire is helping himself to another beer from behind the counter. chetta would have scolded him, except that he probably wouldn’t care, and she doesn’t want to make a scene when she knows that probably all of the people in the room would tear her apart if she did so (even if she catches enjolras throwing a worried look at his friend).

so she listens, and laughs, and eventually becomes engulfed in a conversation with éponine and, weirdly enough, bahorel, about the riot grrrls.

the bits and pieces of excited banter and serious political talk melt into one sound, like music to chetta’s ears, and from time to time she touches the flower that jehan had graced her with, and feels her heart bloom.

 

> * * *
> 
> \-- _and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant_  
> 
> 
> _and whatever a sun will always sing is you_
> 
>  

**Author's Note:**

> ~ none of this would have been possible without the wonderful becki (beckyinthesky here, jehanprouvaired over at tumblr), who motivated & greatly helped me and keeps on going. love you baby girl.  
> ~ for any questions/suggestions/headcanons/anything really, you can either come talk to me in the comments or over at my tumblr (courfeerac). i really love talking to everyone in this fandom so you're all welcome! [kisses you all on the face]  
> ~ there is a whole world of heacanons and ideas coming with this, that hopefully i'll be able to put together and put into words. so if you liked it, wait for more!  
> ~ and lastly, can i just say that this fandom is one of the most pleasant i've ever been in and i genuinely mean it when i say that you guys seriously kick ass.
> 
>  
> 
> (title & quotes from "i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)", by e.e. cummings)


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